I tend to be the littlest bit competitive. So being reminded that, for many people, my gasping little trot is not the smallest fraction of what they would consider a difficult workout… sort of put a puncture in my balloon.

I’m not saying it should have. I know. But it did. I’m just like that.

But then I went to tae kwon do.

The thing I love about that place is that nobody ever thinks I can’t do anything. The assumption is always that I can. And the thing about that is, sometimes they’re wildly wrong – but only the first time. Because eventually, no matter how crazy I think they are for thinking I can, they’re always right. I always can.

And tonight the class was just the way I like it. Terrifyingly, appallingly, out of my league. Two dozen black belts getting ready for their test… and me.

(I am not a black belt. Not even close. I am not going to be a black belt for years.)

But tonight, they were doing the physical requirements for the black belt test. So that’s what I did. And a full class of forms (well, the ones I know, anyway) and kicks and sprints. And I learned some grappling.

It wasn’t until I was nearly done that I realized that the reason I was so tired was not just because they’d all been training for years longer than me. Or because I hadn’t slept much. Or because it was nine o’clock. It was because of those three and a half miles.

But I still did it. So yeah. I don’t brag usually because I don’t usually think I have much to brag about. But today I’m close to satisfied with myself, and that feels nice.